The HMO Blues............

Good Mornin’…..

Today’s stress breakfast consists of two Mother’s Taffy cookies (after all, I’m dieting), washed down by a couple of Diet Pepsi’s on the rocks. Ab’s not particularly fond of those Taffy cookies, which thankfully leaves more for me, considering the sugar junkie that she is. I have no idea where she developed the sugar fixation. :: tongue in cheek::

HMOs…..you’ve got to love ‘em.

Rescue Woman is about to add RN to her official title. Rescue Woman-RN…..I kinda like it. Yep, yesterday I took the abbreviated course in IV Therapy. The HMO special, 30 minute, How to Hook Up and Operate an IV for Dummies class. Hey….don’t those nursing students get like….oh, maybe a week or so training on that subject? Maybe….practice on one another? Didn’t they have to at least take a little test, before you sent them out to work on a real patient?

And…let me get this straight….YOU people are sending ME home with all this stuff to hook up to a very sick Papa (someone I love) after 30 minutes training? All righty then!

How about if I just write all these directions down since I am going to be doing this for 7 nights in a row? Good idea.

Somehow, when they told me Thursday that Papa would need "hyperal" therapy via an IV, that could be done at home, and that they’d "train" me, I just thought that meant that my participation in this whole medical process would be limited to changing the bag that hung on the pole. Very simply…hooking this little twisty connector to that one on his arm. Piece of cake. I can do that. I can do anything, pretty much. I am woman. Hear me roar!

Wrong!

You’d think that as much time as I have spent dealing with Papa’s illness at home and in the hospital over the past few years, I would have realized I was in for a bit more than I’d anticipated!

Holy HMO bedpans….you want me….moi….to hook up all that stuff? I start to shake while looking at the boxes of "lever locks" and plastic tubing, syringes, alcohol wipes and blunt needles and then my head is spinning from hearing my trainer speak official medical terminology like "roller clamps", "Hep locks" and "flushing lines with Heparin." Then comes info about the electronic IV pump PRI rate, occlusions, priming the port and "squeezing chambers" although, not necessarily in that order.

By this time, I think I am now quickly becoming a patient. HELP!

So I mention to the RN who’s providing me the training that I equate this whole process to me providing her 30 minutes of Corrections 101 and then ask her to go handle a serious custody issue in our maximum security area. Yeah, right!

The reason I chose this profession is because I am severely mechanically challenged and for the most part, I just have to use my brains in this job. I’m thinkin’ there’s an awful lot of mechanics in this nursing when you’re talking….….need to flush, prime, feed tubing and clamp, then figure PRI rates over a 12 hour period. Besides, you’ve got to be smarter than the machine. I have only recently figured out how to use my antique digital camera. Kinda.

Okay, so I think I’ve got it now. Got my layman’s notes here. Give me that stuff and let me go home. I place the two heavy boxes of meds, and all the above mentioned paraphernalia in the trunk and gently place the IV pole and pump in the back seat. We head back up the mountain. It is Friday night and it’s going to be another swell weekend.

So as we drive home, Papa senses my distress and knows me well enough to know that I will need back-up for this overwhelming task and he suggests that we ask my best buddy, Trish to come over and help. Now that’s an idea! She is somewhat mechanical. She sews…she’s crafty, and I helped her once when she reupholstered a chair for me. She’s amazing! That required measuring fabric….you know, math stuff…..plus stapling and putting it all back together. Perfect. She be just the right person to assist me, but there’s only one problem. She’s not home!  Arrrrrgghhh!

Ok, not to panic. I can do this. Did I mention I hate puzzles? That’s what this is to me, a puzzle. If you get all the pieces in the proper place, you get this pretty picture and then all is well with the world. I pull out my handy-dandy notes and start pulling stuff out of the boxes. All of a sudden, there’s a knock on the front door. I run to the door, and throw it open and there’s Trish! I burst into tears! She’s my best buddy and I can do that pity party stuff around her! She on the other hand, won’t tolerate that nonsense and suggests we get right to work.

We did it!

Now, all together….(sung to the tune of….The Leg Bone is Connected to the…….)

The plastic needle is connected to the saline flush syringe, the flush syringe is inserted in the hep lock, the vitamins are injected into the yellow port of the IV bag, the injection port is ………..

Pardon me, but I’m feeling a little ill right now. I will talk to you all later.